More than Brotherhood
by MariaShadow
Summary: G1 Something is up with the twins... Complete
1. Chapter 1

Running, fleeing. Lasers tearing up the ground behind us. Dark, gotta hide, get back home. Hit the ground, come back up in a roll, squeeze off a shot at the closest of them.

…_. Got him! C'mon, we've gotta go!…_

…_. Leave me… _

…_.Don't even think about it…_

…_go…_

"NO!"

Sideswipe threw himself off the bunk and landed in a crouch, his gun in hand and optics wide with fright, systems that had been but a second ago wrapped in the embrace of deep recharge now frantically cycling energon and coolant through the red twin's body.

A calming hand was gently laid upon the glossy shoulder.

Sideswipe flinched at the unexpected touch, twisting around to find himself staring into the concerned face of his twin. "You too?" He asked. Sideswipe mutely nodded. Carefully, guilded fingers took the gun from Sideswipe's hand and laid it on the deck, the red warrior allowing himself to be slowly pulled into his brother's arms, Sunstreaker gently rocking his twin back and forth and murmuring quiet words of comfort.

0o0o0

The next morning, the twins ensconced themselves in the darkest corner of the Common room, the identical scowls on their faces warning away even the thickest of mechs from making an enquiry into their sullen mood.

Jazz watched them from the opposite end of the room. "Man, who put sand in their fuel tanks." He commented, visored head shaking slightly. "That must be the fourth mornin' in a row they've been sittin' there."

"Fifth." Prowl corrected. "You were not here the first morning."

"Then where was I?" Jazz frowned, searching his memory.

"Getting lectured to by Ratchet on the intelligence of having a five second fuse that only lasts three."

"Oh yeah, that's right. Explosions tend t' make the memory banks a little hazy fer a day or so."

"Indeed."

"But what are we gonna do about ye ol Brothers Grimm over there?" Jazz gestured slightly towards the twins. "They look about ready t' rip someone apart."

"I am unsure." Prowl replied, a flicker of concern marking his brow.

Prowl narrowed his optics, scrutinising them. "Jazz, you once said that you were trained to analyse mechanoids, correct?"

"Yeah. You want me t' give 'em a proper once over?" Jazz asked, surprised at the level of interest Prowl was taking.

"Yes, there is something going on here that we do not know about."

"'K, gimme a minute." Jazz replied.

He could figure out a part of Prowl's concern. The twins were no longer a sure constant, and Prowl hated having variables unaccounted for in his battle plans, variables that could end up with someone dead. Jazz set his jaw slightly to one side, glad that he wasn't in Prowl's place. Looking out for himself and the occasional teammate on special ops missions was hard enough, regularly planning a strategy that would hopefully result with all warriors returning to base alive was a responsibility that Jazz knew he simply wouldn't be able to handle.

"_No wonder Prowl shuts down his emotions like that, he don't wanna have 'em out there fer the day when one o' us finally gets called home. No emotions means less connection, and less connection means it don't hurt as much." _Jazz thought to himself, then returned to the task at hand.

The table where the twins were sitting was back as far into the corner as possible, half hidden behind a protrusion of granite that created a deep shadow. Jazz could make out enough of their faces to see the identical expressions of guarded hostility, usually an expression worn only by Sunstreaker.

Slouched in their chairs, the brothers were anything but relaxed, shoulders stiff, feet and legs flexing slightly, looking more ready to bolt like if they were expecting a call out any minute now. Narrow blue optics told of hidden stress broiling behind the masks of their expressions; the variation of optical tint -dark in the middle and darker around the edges- showed fatigue covered with recent doses of stimulants, comparable to the dilated pupils of humans when drugged with certain chemical compounds.

What was most surprising was that they each had an arm around each other's shoulders, sitting close enough for it to not be immediately visible. Usually the most physical contact they displayed in public and outside of battle was the occasion nudge or gentle brush of arm against arm when standing side by side, and that was usually when the proverbial had just hit the fan.

Sideswipe slid his gaze in Jazz's direction, and Jazz nonchalantly altered his line of sight as if he were simply scanning the crowd. The last thing the Special Ops officer wanted was to provoke either of the twins into doing a little 'querying' of their own.

Jazz picked up his mug and pretended to take a drink. Jazz knew that Sideswipe was still watching him, and that the red Lamborghini had picked up the trick of reading lips. "Somethin's goin' down with 'em, an I mean _down_." he murmured "Lemme get s'more info 'fore y' do anythin'."

"Understood." Prowl replied.


	2. Chapter 2

Part 2

Luckily for Jazz, both twins were still on LDND-light duties no driving- from their last conflict with the Decepticons, so tailing the pair was much easier. It was not getting caught that was the hard part. But then again, Mirage wasn't the only mech who had skill at not being seen.

He followed them until it was time for his shift, carefully noting the aberrations in their behaviour. During his shift, Jazz tracked the pair with the security cameras. He may not have been Smokescreen, but Jazz knew when a mech was trying and failing to keep something very bad locked up.

As soon as his shift was over, Jazz made a beeline for the Repair bay.

0o0o0

"Whatever it is, the answer is no." Ratchet snapped as Jazz strode into the medic's domain.

"But I haven't even asked th' question yet." The black and white said teasingly. Ratchet appeared from behind a partition, wiping his hands on a rag that had seen better days.

"What's the problem Jazz?" He asked.

"There's somethin' going on with th' twins." Jazz replied, all levity gone from his voice. "They've been doping up on stims, probably fer the last five days or more."

The medic sighed. "I know."

"Y' do?"

"I'm the CMO, it's my business to know." Ratchet growled. "And where do you think they steal the stimulants from anyway?" He pointed to the door to the storeroom.

Jazz crossed the ward and knelt to take a better look at the keypad. Sure enough, there were the tell tale scrapes that told of someone prising open the cover to get at the wiring inside.

"How come y' didn't tell no one?" Jazz asked as he rose and faced the medic.

"I have no proof that it was the twins." Ratchet answered. "And if I did report it, then they'd start making their own. At least this way I know how much stimulant they are taking and unlike home brewed it won't cause permanent damage to their internal systems."

"But can't y' order them in here or something?" Jazz asked, confused at the medic's actions.

"Believe me, right now nothing would make me happier than to drag those two kicking and screaming into this repair bay." Ratchet grumbled, the rag crumpling in his fist. "But there's something going on that I don't know about, and I can't go blundering in there just yet. You have to realise Jazz, these are _twins_. They don't function on the same plane as the rest of us."

0o0o0

It took the rest of that afternoon to track the twins down again. As he followed them, Jazz mentally tallied up his records, finding that they painted a very ugly picture of the situation. This was something far worse than what he had anticipated.

Jazz rounded the corner to find Sideswipe waiting for him, arms folded across his glossy red chest. Sunstreaker was no where to be seen.

"Hey Siders." Jazz said cheerfully, pretending that he had just happened to be in the area. "You seen Hound anywhere?"

The red Lamborghini narrowed his optics slightly. "Drop the act Jazz, I know you were following us." He growled.

"Then y' also know why. " Jazz replied, letting his concern flood his voice. "Sides, what's going on with you and y' bro? I'm worried about ya, and so is Prowl. Ratchet's about t' have y' dragged in fer a check up. And I haven't even talked t' anyone else about it yet."

"It's no biggie." Sideswipe shrugged.

"You've been wearing y'selves ragged an' pumping up on stims fer five nights runnin'." Jazz pointed out. "Th' last time you an' y' bro used stims was that lil jaunt we took t' Polyhex. Whatever 'it' is, I don't think y' can handle it." The black and white put one hand on the other 'bot's shoulder. "Sideswipe, please let me help you. Autobots don't do too well on their own, it ain't how we're wired t' function."

"Jazz…" Sideswipe trailed off. He knew the Special Ops officer could be trusted, but how far? "It's… complicated. We have to take care of it ourselves. " He turned to go, leaving Jazz standing alone in the hallway.


	3. Chapter 3

Part 3

Sunstreaker was waiting in the quarters the twins shared when Sideswipe quietly entered; the yellow warrior carefully measuring out two large doses of the stimulants they had stolen from Ratchet's store room.

His twin came and stood at his elbow. "Your hand is shaking." Sideswipe observed in a neutral tone. Sunstreaker paused, a frown marking his perfect features. He concentrated on the offending hand, forcing it to stop before returning to his task.

Finally he rose, holding two small cups in his hand. Sideswipe took one and stared at the thick, yellow tinged goo inside before looking back up at his twin and offering a wan shadow of his usual cocky grin. "Bottoms up." He said, bracing himself before knocking back the shot of undiluted stimulant.

Sideswipe grimaced as the stimulant hit his systems, sending everything into sudden overdrive for a painful few seconds before the spike died down. When he saw his twin had recovered, Sunstreaker then downed his glass with a similar reaction. They had never been fond of stimulants of any kind, but this was a dire situation.

"Think it'll work?" Sideswipe asked hoarsely, one hand rubbing his throat.  
"Maybe." Sunstreaker quietly replied.

0o0o0o0

It was a very worried Jazz that came to Prowl's quarters that evening to make his report. He stood by silently while the 2IC read through the file, watching as the Datsun's frown grew deeper and deeper.

Prowl looked up at Jazz. "Are you sure about this?" he asked.  
"Unfortunately, yeah. Either saw it m'self or heard it from the 'bot 'imself. The twins've just gotten too good at not gettin' caught." Jazz replied. "So what do we do now?"  
"I am unsure. There is no evidence of their having done anything." Prowl let out a frustrated sigh. "I wish Prime was here, he has had more experience with these matters."  
"Yeah, trust ol' Shocky t' kick up a ruckus right when th' boys back on Cybertron need it least." Jazz grumbled.  
"And with many of our troops there, this is the least opportune time for two of our best warriors to be compromised." Prowl added.

Jazz frowned behind his visor at Prowl's choice of words, but he let it slide. The tactician was thinking of the well being of the unit, not the individuals within it.

In a way, Jazz could understand. Prowl was programmed to primarily think of everything in terms of problems that had to be solved, strategies that had to be planned out and executed and variables that had to be considered. And in that same way, Jazz pitied his black and white teammate for the life that he would never know, bound to logic and purposefully denying himself emotion.

The saboteur paused for a moment and asked "So, any ideas for how we can help 'em?" ,knowing that the question would help spur the tactician's famed intellect into action.

"First we need to know what their problem is." Prowl mused. "Obviously we cannot ask them directly, but perhaps a more subtle approach will suffice." He walked over to a nearby computer and activated several files, nodding to himself as he scrutinised the information. "Come with me please Jazz." Prowl requested as he closed down the computer and headed for the door.  
"Why?" Jazz asked as he fell into step with the Datsun.  
"I need a distraction."

0o0o0

After a quick stop at the Repair bay, Prowl and Jazz arrived at the door to the twins' quarters. Prowl tapped the door chime, stepped back, and waited. About a minute later, the door hissed open and the warriors appeared from within the darkened room, eyeing the two visitors warily.

"What?" Sideswipe asked, his optics narrowed in suspicion.  
"We wished to know what is wrong with you." Prowl stated evenly.  
"Who said anything was wrong?" Sideswipe demanded, instantly on the defensive. "Was it you, Jazz? Well I told you, we got it under control."

Prowl reached out and touched Sideswipe's shoulder. "Please, calm yourself Sideswipe." He attempted, but the red warrior twisted out of his grasp, lips pulled back into a slight growl as he instinctively slipped into an attack position.  
"Hey dude, we're only tryin' t' help ya." Jazz said, slipping between the Lamborghini and his intended prey. Prowl had to admire the Porsche's courage.  
"Maybe we don't want any help." Sunstreaker snarled, leaving the safety of the doorframe to stand beside his brother. Jazz couldn't help but notice that the yellow hands were shaking slightly. Prowl leaned back against the wall to allow Jazz more room in the narrow hallway.

Plucking up his bravado, Jazz took a step towards the warrior. "Maybe y' do, but y' just don't know how t' ask." He suggested calmly, fighting the urge to back down and break optic-contact with the bigger 'bot. "Listen Sunny, Autobots work as a team, a unit. When one o' us has a problem, everyone does. Give us a chance."

"What the frag would you know about us?" Sunstreaker growled, advancing on the slightly shorter bot with a dangerously slow tread. "You don't have a brother, you have no idea what it's like, and you have no idea of what our problem is. So back the slag off and let us deal with it."

The twins turned and vanished into their cabin, a click telling the two officers that the door had been locked.

Jazz sagged against the nearest wall. "Man, for a moment there I thought Ratch' would be scraping Porsche parts off th' floor." He said as he tried to calm his racing systems.  
"They like you too much to do that Jazz." Prowl replied as he pulled a small medical scanner out of subspace and activating it. "The twins would never intentionally harm you."  
"Yeah, I know." Jazz sighed and rubbed his face plate. "So, any joy?"

Prowl smiled slightly. "Both scanners are active and transmitting data." He reported, holding the scanner so that Jazz could see it.

"Sweet! Ratch' will be happy 'bout this." Jazz grinned, then gave Prowl a sidelong glance. "Y'know, I'd have never fingered you fer one of them 'sleight of hand' types. You have a miss-spent youth or somethin'?" He said teasingly.  
Prowl conjured up a suitably innocent expression. "Who said it was miss-spent?" he asked, then returned to his usual sober expression. "We had better get this to Ratchet."  
"Copy that dude."


	4. Chapter 4

Part 4

By the time Jazz and Prowl had gotten back to the Repair bay, Ratchet was waiting for them with Wheeljack, Perceptor and First Aid. "Alright, let's see it." Ratchet said, holding out one hand. Prowl gave him the scanner. "You got both sensor nodes planted?" The medic asked, somewhat surprised.  
"They didn't notice a thing." Jazz replied. "Heck, I didn't even see 'im plant 'em."

Ratchet grunted and fiddled with the scanner for a moment then connected it up to one of the larger units. The screen lit up, split into two separate displays. The medics moved into a rough semicircular formation around the scanner, Prowl and Jazz lurking just around the periphery so that they stayed out of everyone else's way. Ratchet scrutinized the display for a moment then jabbed his finger at the readings displayed on the upper half.

"That one's Sideswipe's readings. The other is Sunstreaker." He announced.  
"Are you sure?" Wheeljack asked, head tilted to one side as he read the jittering lines of the neural scans.  
Ratchet gave a long suffering sigh. ""Jack, I've been putting those two back together for almost as long as you've been blowing yourself up. I know how to tell 'em apart."

The white medic adjusted something on an adjacent scanner display and a set of new readouts lit up the screen. "These are their normal scans." He explained. "Perceptor, you're our resident neuro-mechanical specialist. What do you see?"

Perceptor leaned back against a repair bed and studied the displays for a moment, one hand rubbing his chin. "They appear to have elevated netrophine levels, and their other systems are displaying signs of unusual activity." He commented. "The sub-neuro cortex is of most interest, these patterns are quite abnormal for their current state."  
"Yeah, cog-stim is through the roof, same with mech-stat levels." Wheeljack added.  
"And what about their trinary core? Some of these readings are way off the graph." First Aid pointed out. "There's major aberrations in the peaks and curves for both of them. And look at these chemical spikes here, they're almost off the chart."  
"Hmm, some of it may be the stims, but I'm not so sure about the rest." Ratchet mused, frowning at the two displays.

"Any idea what they're sayin'?" Jazz murmured to Prowl.  
"Not a clue." Prowl quietly replied.

Jazz raised his voice to get the attention of the assembled medics. "Erm, fer those o' us without med trainin', what does all that mean?" He asked.

Ratchet beckoned for the pair to come closer and pointed to a jerky, spasmodically pulsing red line on Sideswipe's half of the display screen. "You see this?" he asked. "It's Sideswipe's subconscious. According to these other readings, he's currently on-line and at full consciousness. But this graph is showing far too much activity for that. Taken together, they seem to indicate that he's in a partially online state."  
"Like sleepwalking?" Jazz asked. "'Cause I was watchin' th' two all day an' they didn't seem t' be out of it or anythin'."  
"No." Ratchet shook his head. "We don't sleepwalk. You know the REM state humans have while sleeping?"  
"Yeah."

"While we're in shut-down, the higher neurological functions are suspended to allow the subconscious to direct maintenance, maintain somatic functions and clear up the data input from the day. REM state is when humans dream. For us, we have NSF- neuro suspension function; that's when data and memories are sorted and filed. Right now, both twins are fully online, but their sub-conscious minds are also active and appear to be, well, stuck on instant reply on one memory." Ratchet explained.

"So what do we do?" Prowl asked.  
"Haul 'em both in here before the lack of proper shut down drives them both psychotic." Wheeljack bluntly announced.  
"If our previous meeting is any indication of their state, such a task will prove very difficult." Prowl warned.

"No it won't." Ratchet replied. "Wheeljack, First Aid, get the sedatives. Perceptor, you're with me. Prowl, Jazz, see if you can get the twins to come without argument. If they won't, distract them until I get there."

0o0o0

Meanwhile…

Sideswipe paced the room like a caged animal, while his twin was sprawled in one of the chairs, staring dispiritedly at the scuffed decking.

The red warrior suddenly flinched and paused in his restless movements to look at his brother. "Sunny?" he asked, a timid quaver marring his usually strong voice. Sunstreaker looked up; his paint dull and optics a wan, washed out blue. "It didn't work, did it?" Sideswipe asked. Sunstreaker wordlessly shook his head."Should we go to Ratchet?" Again, the head shake in reply. "Then what?" Sunstreaker returned to his contemplation of the floor tiles.

Sideswipe let out a sigh and started pacing again, hoping that the problem would go away on it's own, but knowing that unless someone else did something soon, there would be a whole lot more Autobots with a much bigger problem.

* * *

_Many thanks to Trueborn Chaos, mobileholmes, HunterBlues, Uftaki, Tirya King, Tiamat 1972, Rose and PuraJazzBot for your reviews :D. Hopefully thishas shed a little light on the situation, but then again, you never know what's really going on with the twins ;)_


	5. Chapter 5

_Very sorry about the delay everyone, I had a nasty case of writer's block and computer troubles to boot. _

* * *

Part 5

What is worse? Going insane, or knowing that you are?

Sunstreaker knew that he was slowly loosing his mind. The ever-repeating nightmare had now started to appear in their waking hours, bringing with it strange ideas and frightening thoughts that his sleep-deprived consciousness was finding harder and harder to deny.

The crested head was bowed, but the yellow twin refused to admit defeat.

0o0o0

"Somethin' tells me we're gonna need some heavy artillery t' pull this off." Jazz muttered as he and Prowl neared the twin's quarters.  
"Perhaps the element of surprise will suffice." Prowl replied. "In their weakened state, the twins will prove much easier to subdue."  
Jazz gave the 2IC a strange look. "You ever seen what happens when those two get desperate?" he asked.  
"I can't say that I have."  
"Well I can." Jazz paused and fired off a quick message over the radio. "Ratch' and his boys are on their way, an' I got Hound and Trailbreaker t' cover th' other end o' the hall. All we need t' do is catch one of 'em and they'll nab the other."  
"Perhaps it will not come to that." Prowl replied.  
"Slim chance, but we can always hope." Jazz said, squaring his shoulders and tapping the door chime.

He tried twice more before the twins finally appeared, looming within the shadows of their quarters. "What do you want?" Sideswipe growled.

"Well, th' Doc sent us down t' ask you t' come t' the Repair Bay. He tried t' radio you, but y' comms are switched off." Jazz explained, maintaining an 'I'm just here to help' expression and keeping his posture relaxed and non-threatening.  
Sideswipe's optics narrowed. "You're lying." He snapped, fists tightening.  
"Easy dude, we ain't gonna hurt you." Jazz soothed, hands held up in a placating gesture. _"They're gonna bolt, we gotta jump 'em." _He quietly radioed to Prowl. _"Wait for my signal."  
_"I don't believe you." The red twin snarled. Prowl shifted his weight slightly, preparing to spring. The tense standoff lasted a second longer, then the twins bolted.

Jazz anticipated the moment perfectly, thrusting himself forward and catching Sunstreaker in a perfect tackle. The lean warrior roared and struggled as his back made contact with the tiled floor, managing to roll on top of Jazz and break the Porche's grip. He jumped to his feet, but Jazz was quicker, darting behind the warrior and wrapping an arm around his neck in a headlock. "Sorry t' do this to ya." The black and white grunted, then stabbed his fingers into a gap between the armoured plates of the Lamborghini's lower back. Sunstreaker howled in dismay as his legs suddenly lost all sensation and he collapsed face first onto the floor, Jazz on top of him. Jazz quickly pinned him, twisting both yellow arms up behind the broad back.

Sideswipe meanwhile, was in the hallway facing off against Prowl. The black and white was half crouched in the middle of the corridor, arms wide. Sideswipe tried to dart past him, but the tactician matched his movements perfectly. "Sunstreaker!" he yelled, risking a glance in his twin's direction.

"Go!" Sunstreaker ordered. For a moment, Sideswipe paused, anguish marking his features. "Go!" Sunstreaker repeated. Sideswipe wheeled and bolted for the other end of the hallway, Prowl close behind. Fear gave the red mech the energy to run, straight into Trailbreaker's outstretched arm as he clotheslined himself.

Gagging, the mech staggered to his feet and tried to escape again, but Hound and Trailbreaker quickly seized his arms and forced him up against the wall. "Lemme go! I'm gonna rip you apart!" Sideswipe roared, swearing viciously as he struggled. But the two mechs remained firm.

"Sideswipe!" Ratchet yelled. Sideswipe paused and looked over to where Ratchet and the rest of the medics were coming up the hallway. First Aid and Perceptor stopped at the door to the twin's room, while Ratchet and Wheeljack continued on. Sideswipe spied the syringe in the medic's hand and his frenzied struggles renewed. "No! Get away from me!" he howled.

"I'm not going to hurt you." Ratchet soothed, motioning for Prowl and Wheeljack to stay back.  
"You are! You're gonna kill me, you're gonna kill us both, put us in permanent stasis, keep us away!" Sideswipe screamed in panic, air hissing rapidly through his vents.

Ratchet gently grabbed Sideswipe's chin and forced him to look at his face. "Listen to me Sideswipe." He said gently, keeping his calm optics locked on Sideswipe's terror stricken ones. "I will not bring any harm to you or your twin."  
"You will, you'll hurt us!" Sideswipe whimpered, trying desperately to pull his face out of the medic's grasp.  
"Sideswipe, have I ever hurt you before?" Ratchet asked.  
"N..no." Sideswipe stuttered.  
"Then why would I ever hurt you now?" The medic asked, bringing the syringe up to Sideswipe's neck and carefully inserting the tip into the small port embedded at the base of his neck. "I'm here to help you Sideswipe, I promise."

The warrior let out a weak moan as the sedative flooded his systems and shut down his neurological functions. Ratchet watched as Sideswipe's optics faded and he sagged against the wall, an almost paternal concern crossing Ratchet's usually sour features. "Get them both to the Repair Bay, now." He ordered.


	6. Chapter 6

Part 6

The twins lay silent on their respective berths, the electrical currents in their neurological circuitry slowed by a potent cocktail of sedating chemicals to finally allow them a few blessed hours of uninterrupted rest.

First Aid and Wheeljack hovered over the motionless warriors, keeping careful watch over their systems. Perceptor was studying their neuro-scanner displays with a critical optic. And Ratchet was standing slightly off to one side, arms folded and optics narrowed as he glared at the display units, mentally demanding that the inanimate and inarticulate machines be gifted speech and tell him what the slag was going on with his boys.

All his years of training, first at the Academy and then as an intern, had drilled into him the golden rule of sanity for any wartime medical professional. Disassociation. Never learn your patient's names. Never treat one any differently to another, nor develop any kind of personal link. Each and every body that is dumped onto your slab is simply a medical problem that must be overcome. No more, no less.

But despite it all, his years of service with this unit had worn away his resolve to maintain the emotional armour plating that his calling demanded. In his own gruff way, Ratchet cared for each and every sorry soul that crashed with this ship, taking the injuries this war caused them like a personal insult.

And he would be slagged first before he gave any of them up without one Pit of a fight.

"Diagnosis!" He ordered.  
"Preliminary analysis suggests an outside interference with specific memory engrams." Perceptor reported.  
"What kind?"  
"I am unsure as of this moment. It will take some further investigation." The scientist replied, tactfully ignoring the muttered oaths that came in response.

Ratchet stalked to Sunstreaker's display unit and glared at the screen, one hand planted on top of the housing. He watched the jittering lines for a moment and growled something unpleasant sounding, his hands curled into fists.

"Ratchet?" Wheeljack ventured.  
"What?"  
"Threatening the scanner ain't gonna make it cough up the answers." Wheeljack said. "When was the last time you got some recharge?"  
"Just before the start of my shift last night." Ratchet snapped.  
Wheeljack pointed in the direction of the CMO's office. "Take a break and come back in an hour. You're no good to them if you can't read the scanner. They're stable for the moment, and I promise I'll wake you up if there's a change."

The CMO levelled Wheeljack with a look so intense that it would have made Devastator step aside, but the Lancia stood firm. "That doesn't work on me." He said calmly. Ratchet held the glare a moment longer before uttering a grunt of irritation and walking away in the direction of his office.

Prowl and Jazz had been watching the whole exchange from the relative safety of the far end of the ward, only approaching when the office door slammed shut.

"So, er, what were ya meaning by an 'outside interference'?" Jazz asked curiously. "It a virus or a hack or somethin'?"  
"If it was, I would have said so." Perceptor answered crisply.  
"What is their current status?" Prowl queried.  
"Offline and in deep recharge." First Aid replied. "We've artificially suspended part of their higher neurological functions, so the memory can't register during their NSF cycle."

"Yeah, but, what's _wrong_ with them?" Jazz asked.  
Wheeljack let out a frustrated sigh. "Somebody deliberately planted something into their programming code. Right now we're not sure what, but hopefully we can track it down soon."


	7. Chapter 7

Part 7

Despite everything, the Ark was still a military facility, and Prowl was still the 2IC. Though he wanted to help the twins, having had personal experience of the confusion and turmoil created by problems of the mind, Prowl reluctantly left the Repair bay to return to his duties. Jazz however, had the day off and remained in the ward, watching the medics work.

"Jazz, why are you still here?" Perceptor queried after almost an hour had passed. "I thought you were planning to go into town today?"  
"That was until I found out how bad this thing was with th' twins." Jazz replied. "I wanna be here for 'em, y'know, in case they wake up an' need a friendly face t' be there."  
"Ah." Perceptor smiled. "While it is highly unlikely that they shall awaken any time soon, the knowledge that you were present will of no doubt be of great comfort to them."  
Jazz offered a grin in reply.

The door to Ratchet's office crashed open and the medic stormed out. "Perceptor, any change?" He demanded. Though the nap had obviously done the red and white some good, it had obviously not soothed his temper.

"Nothing pertaining to the situation." The scientist reported.  
"Hmm. This sort of thing just doesn't happen out of the slaggin' blue." Ratchet growled. "Wheeljack, First Aid, start going through their somatic function records. I want every major netrophine spike checked and accounted for." He ordered. "Perceptor, keep them functioning. I'll go pull their full medical logs from Teletran."

Jazz watched for a minute as a set of new machines was hooked up to the twins, then wandered over to where Wheeljack was working. "So, uh, what's the deal with this netro stuff?" he asked.  
"Netrophine helps t' moderate neurological function, more specifically memory engrams." Wheeljack answered. "When there's a spike, it means there's been a disruption to the process. Usually it's just a knock 't the head or something, but it also happens when there's been abnormal activity."  
"Like an alteration?" Jazz guessed.  
"Exactly." First Aid chimed in. "Hopefully, if we can find identical spikes during the same timeframe it will give us a clue as to what happened."

About half an hour later, Wheeljack suddenly exclaimed "Hey look at this!" jabbing one blunt finger at the screen. "These neurophine spikes are almost identical to their first readings."  
"Lemme see." Ratchet ordered, elbowing his way in. There was a moment's pause as he checked the records. "Yup. And it's unaccounted for."

"What's the time index?" First Aid queried, also crowding in.  
"Third quartex, second lunar of the 18th arc, only a few cycles before we boarded the Ark." Ratchet answered. "That mean anything to anyone?"

"Polyhex!" Jazz suddenly blurted. The medics turned to look at him.  
"What?" Wheeljack asked.  
"Polyhex." The Porsche repeated. "Just b'fore we launched th' Ark, me an' the twins got sent on a mission t' Polyhex. Why didn't I see it?" he berated himself.  
"See what?" Ratchet demanded.

Jazz sighed. "We got ratted out by a double agent and captured. I got taken t' the interrogation rooms while Sunny an' Sides were dragged off t' the labs. 'Parently ol' mono-vision has an interest in what makes twins tick. Anyway, they managed t' get loose and spring me 'fore anything happened, but I noticed they were acting kinda weird, sorta jumpy, aggressive, an' sensitive t' light and touch. Shockwave must've done something to them. I just thought they were stressed."  
"It's alright Jazz, you couldn't have known." Ratchet said. "Can you tell us anything else the twins were doing that was out of character?"  
"Only thing I can 'member was they were takin' stims. Didn't seem weird cause I was too." Jazz admitted. "I saw some gruesome things in there, didn't wanna recharge 'till I could suppress th' memories. Figure th' twins had the same."

"Hmm. So, Shockwave is behind this." Wheeljack muttered, one hand rubbing the bottom of his facemask in thought. "Only thing is why? Did he want to control them or something?"  
"I would not be so sure." Perceptor interrupted. "This is unlike his usual style, and I highly doubt he would have allowed the twins and Jazz to escape if the twins were subjects in his experiments."  
"That's true." First Aid spoke up. "Hey, wasn't there a neuro-specialist at Polyhex?"

"Mindscape." Ratchet said, his voice hard and flinty. "I think he's still there. Last I heard he was conducting research into the psyche and recombinant memories. I read the reports Magnus sent on when they found his last set of victims. Apparently they had all been driven psychotic and…"

Ratchet trailed off, optics wide. The four medics exchanged a worried look.

"I'll go get the restraints." Wheeljack volunteered. "Jazz, go get Prowl. Now."


	8. Chapter 8

Part 8

"…so what we figure is that while Jazz and the twins were captured, this 'Mindscape' character did something to alter or splice Sideswipe and Sunstreaker's memories." Wheeljack explained to Prowl. "We can't be sure, but I'm starting to think that Shockwave ordered that they got let loose."  
"Agreed." Prowl said, leaning against one of the empty berths and rubbing his chin as he processed the information. Jazz stood next to him, while First Aid and Perceptor were carefully securing the twins to their berths.  
"Have you been able to isolate this memory yet?" Prowl queried.

Ratchet looked up from the equipment he had set up at the head of Sunstreaker's berth. "Working on it." He reported. Prowl crossed his arms and frowned. "When you have it, I want Smokescreen in here. He may be able to advise us on our next course of action. In the meantime, I'll radio Iacon and arrange for Mindscape to be captured. He may provide us with valuable information."  
"Wait Prowl, I'll handle that." Jazz spoke up. "There's a bot or three back on Cybertron who owe me a favour. They'll be able t' get t' the freak-o dude faster than your contacts could."

Prowl was about to ask whom, but decided against it. He did not know much about Jazz's past and his associates in the Black Ops, but he did know enough to know that Jazz preferred not to talk about it. The black and white nodded his agreement and watched as the saboteur left.

Jazz returned some time later, Smokescreen in tow. "Jazz filled me in on the way here." The Subaru said. "Any new developments?"  
"Not yet." First Aid replied.  
Smokescreen nodded, then his optics fell on the twins. "Why are they restrained?" he asked.  
Ratchet and his protégé exchanged a look. "The last set of Mindscape's victims were released in the Kelos badlands." First Aid said. "Originally there were about eight of them. Only one was found still functioning."  
"But what do you mean?" Smokescreen asked.  
"There was only one functional, and he was dying from energon-depletion." First Aid said. "The rest had been killed several weeks earlier, probably immediately after they were dumped there."

"You mean he…?" Smokescreen trailed off, horrified. Everyone within earshot repressed shudders with varying degrees of success.

"I've isolated the memory file!" Ratchet called out. Everyone crowded around the monitor to watch. The image was grainy and unfocused, but it was clear enough to make out. Nobody said a word. Ratchet let it play through once then shut off the monitor.

"Mech, no wonder they freaked out." Jazz said after a long pause. "I'm surprised they didn't go postal on us earlier."  
"Indeed." Prowl said. "They were tormented by this for days."  
"Yeah, six days of Sunstreaker watching Sideswipe get gunned down by…us. And Sideswipe watching the same thing happen to his twin." Ratchet shook his head slightly, then his optics narrowed. "Mindscape has a lot to answer for."

"True, but now that we know what the problem is, how do we solve it?" Prowl asked. "And why has this memory only resurfaced now?"  
"I have a theory about that." Wheeljack spoke up. "I can't be sure until I find out exactly what Mindscape did, but I think he used a limited A.I. retro-virus to implant the memories. They were active until the twin's self-repair program recognised the threat, effected counter measures and moved to delete it. The memory-carrying virus became dormant until the A.I. could get around the firewalls."

"But why?" Jazz asked. "Seems a lil' odd t' invest so much inta these two an' just let 'em go."  
"That may have been the intent." Prowl said, brow furrowed in concentration. "According to the original plan, once a safe distance had been achieved, the majority of the crew would have gone into temporary stasis to conserve fuel while a skeleton crew searched for an energy-rich planet we could mine. We only came across Earth by accident."  
"An' if everythin' had gone accordin' t' plan," Jazz continued, "the twin's would'a been on th' first shift. They'd've gone psycho an' slaughtered everyone."

"So how do we help them? Can we delete the virus?" Smokescreen asked.  
Ratchet shook his head. "No. It's obviously buried deep in their code, and only they can identify and dig it out. I can equip their systems with more powerful programs to do so, but the twins have to be conscious to implement them."  
"And if we wake them up, they won't be coherent enough to do so." Smokescreen finished. "We'll have to help them through the psychosis first."

The Subaru paused, rubbing his chin in thought. "We'll need an empty, secure room. Judging by what Jazz told me about the first time, there will have to be minimal lighting, Cybertron- standard temperature and zero humidity, and two people that they trust in there with them. One person would be perceived as a viable target, three would make them nervous from being outnumbered. It'll have to be two."

"I'll do it." Jazz immediately volunteered, but Smokescreen shook his head.

"Not a good idea Jazz." He countered. "We're dealing with the sub-conscious mind here. It knows that something bad happened to them at Polyhex and you were with them at that time. It might just put two and two together and designate you a threat. Ratchet and Prowl will have to."


	9. Chapter 9

Part 9

The room that Wheeljack found was originally a storage room for the shells required for the Ark's original external guns. A small camera unit was installed so that the outside observers could keep an optic on events inside, and finally the still offline twins were carried in.

Jazz caught Prowl's arm just before the Datsun entered the dim chamber. "Hey Prowl, be careful in there, ok?" He said quietly. "These two ain't th' twins we're used t'."  
"I know." Prowl replied. "Thank you Jazz." Prowl stepped inside the room with Ratchet, and the insulated door was sealed behind them.

It took a moment for their optics to adjust to the low light, during which time both Autobots carefully sat down on the floor, as per Smokescreen's instructions, and trying to appear as non-threatening as possible.

Sunstreaker awoke first. In a single flicker of motion, he was crouched at his brother's shoulder, one hand placed possessively on the red chestplate as he glared at the two seated Autobots, optics narrowed to two slits that glowed a brilliant sapphire blue in the darkness. Sideswipe stirred and his brother rocked back to allow the red twin to rise.

Ratchet felt distinctively uncomfortable as the twins crouched in the far corner of the room, feline-like as they eyed the medic and the tactician. _"Do not move, do not break optic contact."_ Smokescreen's voice instructed over the radio.

Carefully, silently, the brothers edged closer, mimicking each other's movements with eerie synchronisation. Sideswipe sat on his haunches next to Prowl, head tilted slightly to one side as if he was seeing the Datsun for the first time. Unflinching, Prowl returned the piercing azure gaze. _"They're testing you, to see if you're a threat." _Smokescreen said, his voice a low buzz in Prowl's audio.

"You."

The sudden noise caught Prowl by surprise, and he almost looked towards the speaker. It was Sunstreaker, who was half kneeling in front of Ratchet.

"You." The yellow twin repeated, his voice hollow and dispassionate. "You hurt us."  
"Were there." Sideswipe added.  
"One of them."

Both warriors recoiled and jumped back, crouching again in front of the still kneeling Autobots. Prowl was getting worried. Sideswipe watched the two Autobots warily, while his brother was poised to attack, one hand braced on the ground and the other curled into a fist. The tactician's optics narrowed slightly. He recognised the pattern of movements, curiously similar to those of the cyber wolves he had studied in Basic Training. Hopefully, that behavioural research would once again prove useful in this situation.

"No." Ratchet countered Sunstreaker's claim, unconsciously adopting the twin's broken syntax. "Would not hurt you. Here to help you."  
Both sets of optics narrowed, now darkened to a dangerous royal blue. "Liar." Sunstreaker accused. "Saw, heard." He jerked his head towards Sideswipe. "Attacked him. Hurt him. Memory."  
"Not true." Prowl replied, also using the abbreviated sentence structure. "Was a false memory. Decepticons did it."  
"We are here to help you." Ratchet said, stressing each word. Prowl could sense the medic's frustration; the healer wanting to do his job but as of yet unable to help his patients.

The twins appeared to consider their words, heads tilting slightly as their postures relaxed.

Outside, Smokescreen, Wheeljack, Perceptor and Jazz watched the video feed anxiously. "It's worse than when ol' Meggy re-programmed th' chambers. Least then we knew what we was up 'gainst." Jazz muttered, left arm wrapped around his stomach and his right fist pressed against his lips, almost quivering with repressed nervous energy. He wanted to be in there, he should have been in there. But he couldn't. Interfering at this moment in the delicate play of instinct and reflex would be fatal.

Inside, the silence was broken only by the hiss and pull of air through cooling vents and the soft thrum of internal systems. The twins had been silent for about a minute, when Ratchet did something very stupid.


	10. Chapter 10

Part 10

The medic half rose, one hand reaching out towards the twins. They reacted instantly to the perceived threat, Sideswipe batting the arm away and Sunstreaker following up with a cross-jab punch combination that sent the medic sprawling.

They would have moved in to finish him off if Prowl hadn't jumped in the way, slightly crouched with his arms spread, shoulders hunched and doorwings flung wide to make himself look larger and more intimidating as he fixed the twins with a glare that dared challenge; quickly transmitting a hasty _"Stay out!" _to the undoubtably worried Autobots outside.

The room was perfectly still as the three Autobots silently contested their authority, Sunstreaker towering over the Datsun and delivering a glare that would have had most Decepticons begging for mercy, while Sideswipe was crouched and about to spring, lips peeled back from his dental plates in a silent snarl. Prowl remained unmoved, his face coldly impassive but his optics hard and dark as cobalt.

Sideswipe looked down and Sunstreaker backed away, both twins recognising the elder mech's dominance. Prowl rose to his full height, keeping his optics locked on the twins and his door panels stiff.

Outside the ersatz padded cell, Jazz, Wheeljack, Smokescreen, Perceptor and First Aid watched in rapt fascination as Prowl silently manoeuvred the twins away from the still prone Ratchet. They had been about to rush the chamber when Ratchet was knocked down. It was only Prowl's uncharacteristically forceful command that kept them outside.

"What's he doing?" Wheeljack asked, his voice a near whisper as if he was afraid of breaking the Datsun's control over the twins.  
"I…I'm not sure." Smokescreen answered, his voice similarly lowered and optics glued to every movement played out on the small video display.

"I think I've an idea." Jazz said after a moment. "Any o' ya seen a movie called 'The Horse Whisperer'?"  
"I believe not. Why do you ask?" Perceptor queried.  
"Well, the dude in it learns t' talk horse body lingo." The black and white explained. "Got Prowl t' watch it with me an' Hound a few years ago. Turns out Prowl did a behaviour study on some o' the critters back on Cybertron doin' some o' th' same kinda stuff. I think right now Prowl's tryin' t' speak twin."

Inside, Prowl had herded the twins a safe distance away from Ratchet, but not too close to the walls. Making sure he had their attention, he slowly relaxed his door wings and shoulders, then ever so slightly lifted his chin so that his throat was exposed- a sign of trust.

"Listen to me." He said, beginning slowly and softly, then altering his tone to one of sharp, parade ground command. "You are Sideswipe and Sunstreaker, Autobot warriors. Do you understand me?"  
"Yessir." The twins chorused, centuries of military training automatically responding to the authority in Prowl's voice.

"What happened to you at Polyhex?" Prowl barked.  
"We were attacked." Sideswipe reported; knees locked and fists at his sides in parade ground attention.  
"By whom?"  
"Autobots." Sunstreaker reported.  
"Illogical. You are Autobots. Why would Autobots attack you?" Prowl questioned.

"Because…" Sideswipe trailed off and paused for a moment, then gave his head a violent shake. Sunstreaker swayed slightly and blinked. "What? Prowl?" Sideswipe looked at the 2IC, his optics returned to their usual hue of summer sky blue. "What's…"  
"Ratchet! Is he?" Sunstreaker interrupted.

"He is dazed, but he will be fine." Prowl replied. "As he has often said, it will take more than you two to be the end of him." He said, a faint smile of relief touching his lips. "But what is of priority is that you remove the root cause of this problem- the program installed while on your mission to Polyhex just before the Ark launch."

"Yes, I remember now." Sunstreaker said, optics hardening slightly. He faced his brother. "Shall we?" He asked.  
"Let's." Sideswipe replied. He locked his left hand around his twin's shoulder and placed his right hand at the back of Sunstreaker's cranium, tiny wires emerging from his fingertips and snaking between his helm and the inner casing of his neural circutry, Sunstreaker doing the same for him. One by one, systems shut down as the twin initiated the cerebral link.


	11. Chapter 11

Part 11

It was dark. Refuse crunched underfoot. Retro-rats trilled in alarm and scattered at their approach.

"What is this place?" Sideswipe wondered.  
"Dunno." Sunstreaker replied, optics narrowed as he looked around, long golden fingers flexing slightly.  
A scrape of metal against metal caught their attention. "Someone's coming." Sideswipe warned. Sunstreaker nodded his agreement, and both twins melted back into the shadows.

A slow, steady tread echoed down the alley, gradually rising in crescendo. The twins tensed as the walker approached, but remained concealed. The footsteps stopped, and there was another scrape as the unseen walker turned.

Some distance away, there was a resounding crash of a falling body. That was followed by a rapid stattico beat of running feet. It didn't take the twins long to figure out what was happening, and neither brother had the wish to revisit the event. There was a faint shout, the sharp report of gunfire, then silence.

Cautiously, Sideswipe and Sunstreaker emerged from the darkness and moved towards the mouth of the alley, as silent as predators on the hunt.

A seeker stood atop a mound of rubble, his back turned towards the pair. Sideswipe gestured to his twin, then stepped into the open with a deliberately loud footfall. The seeker turned, allowing the twins to get a better look at him. He was slightly shorter than average, dark green, with stubby wings and air intakes, but a build that suggested considerable upper body strength. A square of orange-tinted glass covered one optic, and the standard-issue Decepticon smirk of superiority was unmissable.

Sideswipe crossed his arms and in his most insulting tone asked "Whadda you doing here, runt?"  
The seeker's smirk widened. "Simply enjoying the show." He replied urbanely, his voice carrying the educated inflections that Mirage used. "I suggest you wait for the replay to begin, I never tire of it."  
"Then I suggest you find some new entertainment." Sideswipe replied, a threatening undertone marking his words.

"Doubtful." The seeker answered. "I happen to quite like it here. Ah, but where are my manners? I am designated Mindscape, an A.I construct downloaded by my original into your cerebral cores. You must be Sideswipe, and the viscous creature in the shadows there must be your twin. Don't bother trying to trick me. I've been living in your minds for quite some time now."  
"Then you know that we've figured out your sick little game." Sunstreaker said as he came into view and stood beside his twin.

"Yes, but it will do you little good. I'm too well entrenched for even you to identify." Mindscape replied. "You may think you will defeat me, but I am like a Hydra. For every manifestation that you remove, more shall arise in its place. My first incarnation was crude and basic, a mere draft upon which vast improvements were made while you were dormant. Soon, I shall be able to amass the power to control your bodies and carry out my purpose. Every single Autobot on this planet will slowly die by your hands." The seeker indulged in an anticipatory chuckle. "Oh, how I long for the moment when I shall deliver the heads of your companions to Lord Megatron and receive my just rewards."

Sideswipe yawned.

"Are you done yet?" He asked.  
"Huh?" The befuddled seeker was clueless. His proclamation should have at least incited outrage or fear, not boredom.  
"I think he is." Sunstreaker replied, cracking his knuckles with a distinctly malevolent expression. "Let's have some fun with this one, shall we?"  
"Let's."

0o0o0

The medics, Prowl and Jazz were waiting when the twins finally disengaged the link some 45 minutes later.

"Are you boys ok?" Jazz asked, staying just out of reach.  
"Yup." Sideswipe grinned. "Scratch one A.I."  
"A light-weight." Sunstreaker snorted. "Hardly worth the trouble."

"Well I'm glad you feel that way." Ratchet replied somewhat sarcastically. "Considering the merry hell you two just put us through trying to save your slaggin' hides, when it could all have been circumvented by simply telling me you had a problem in the first place!" He roared. "Now, get your fraggin' pretty-mech afts to the Repair Bay, IMMEDIATELY!"  
"Yes Ratchet." The twins chorused meekly, then turned and bolted for the Repair Bay.

0o0o0

"Man, am I glad that's over." Jazz sighed as he propped his feet up on the table and rocked back on his chair, a glass of high grade in hand.  
"As am I." Prowl replied. The two mechs were in the deserted Common Room, taking a moment to relax after a uniquely stressful series of events. "Ratchet said that he'll keep the twins under observation tonight and tomorrow, then give them a final diagnostic."  
"Cool."

Jazz sipped his drink, then stared at the ceiling in thought. "Hey Prowl, how come th' twins did th' whole link deal? Woulda been easier t' just activate th' programs on their own."  
"Perhaps it has to do with their status as twins." Prowl suggested. "They have something far more than brotherhood. An attack as postulated by Ratchet and the others would have had a deep psychological effect that may have been best remedied by eliminating the threat together."  
"Makes sense." Jazz mused.

"Have you had word from your comrades yet?" The Datsun asked after a moment.  
"You mean about th' sick-o? Yeah. Nightwatch an' his team picked the twisted littl' freak up a few hours ago." One corner of Jazz's mouth twitched in distaste. "'Parently he's been entertainin' th' boys in th' detention block with all kinds a' stories 'bout how he's gonna re-wire 'em t' go psycho an' rip all o' their friends apart with their dental plates. Personally, dudes like that should never 'ave been allowed t' function, but it seems ol' Shocky likes his scientists loony."

"Can you ask Nightwatch to send me the report of his interrogation?" Prowl asked. "I would like to ensure that this was not his only project."  
"Sure. All th' data they pulled from his lab is gonna be on the next supply shuttle here too." Jazz said.  
"Thankyou, it is appreciated." Prowl replied. "Prime will be able to deal with any discoveries before he must return to the Ark."  
"I just hope that there aren't any." Jazz said. "'Cause if there are, it means that some poor folks out there didn't have the chance that our boys did."  
"Agreed."

Fin

* * *

_Well, that's that. Or is it? ;) Many, many thanks to Straya, DesertCat87, Trueborn Chaos, mobilehomes, Draange, Tiamat1972, Flyby Stardancer, Mizfitz, AngelsWind, HunterBlues, RES, PuraJazzBot, Uftaki, TiryaKing andRose. I've loved readingall ofyour reviews. :D_


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